Barque's End. The Rust Belt of Dubrillion, where dreams dwindled and men worked their fingers to the bone. Low paying jobs, aging factories, and declining industry had crippled the community for decades. It was where men went to die, to labor into obscurity, to breath their last in a shabby, one-room apartment. If they were lucky, that is, and didn't expire in the gutter or on the job first. It was certainly no place for two Jedi Padawans. Particularly two teenagers unchaperoned. Their supervision, by name, was Jedi Knight Nova Aboleth, a Twi'lek woman in her early thirties that preferred a hands-off approach when it came to training.
Crime had been on the rise ever since the Sith Empire had declared war on the ISC. Since Dubrillion butted up to Sith Space in the northwest and the planet had enjoyed an association with the Jedi Order, it was preparing for an invasion, beefing up security and drills Not even local law enforcement was expempt, and the beleaguered agencies found themselves overworked and understaffed.
That was where the Jedi came in. To step in, temporarily, where the local constabulary couldn't. Off-world drug dealers had gotten a foot hold in the city, flooding the streets and byways of Barque's End with their merchandise. Knight Aboleth had determined to do something about it. "You sure about this?" Samara muttered into the transmitter hidden in her ear. Somewhere up above, hiding on the rooftops and in the shadows, the Jedi Knight was keeping an eye on the pair of Padawans.
"Just don't get cocky," the Knight replied, her voice crackling in both of the teenager's ears. @LouJoVi